


Rumor Has It

by steampunkmagic



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: Gossip, M/M, Rumors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:03:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7233034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steampunkmagic/pseuds/steampunkmagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People tend to notice when a lanky Irishman suddenly moves in with the Preacher and Cassidy wishes half of what they were saying was true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rumor Has It

**Author's Note:**

> This silly little idea popped into my head during episode 2 and I had to write it down :)

                Emily had only just begun pouring over the church's admittedly dismal finances, when Lacy set down her order of coffee, eggs, and toast.  Then without preamble her fellow waitress slid into the seat across from her.

                "So…?"  The other woman began, her eyes alive with mischief.   Her lipstick was an alarming shade of pink.

                For the life of her, Emily didn't know what Lacy was after so she responded in classic elementary school fashion.  "So what?"

                "That English fella."  Lacy half whispered, widening her eyes as if Emily was being coy on purpose.

                "You mean Cassidy?  I'm pretty sure he's Irish."  If the man's accent were any thicker he'd be speaking a different language.  That and he seemed dead set on confirming every Irish stereotype she'd ever heard of short of handing out pots of gold.   "What about him?"

                Lacy glanced surreptitiously around the near empty dinner before leaning closer over the Formica tabletop.  Unconsciously Emily leaned in as well. 

                "I heard he's been staying at the church … _with_ the Preacher."  The other woman raised a loaded eyebrow.

                Oh Sweet Lord is that where this conversation was heading?  "Yes,  Jesse is letting him stay in the attic room."  Emily said firmly trying to derail such thoughts as quickly as possible. 

                Not that she had anything against gays mind you.  God made everyone the way they were meant to be and anyone who disagreed didn't understand God's love and omnipotence.  End of story.  But Jesse was the Preacher.  Not only did that mean he'd taken a vow of chastity, but that making up salacious rumors about him was a sin. 

                Not that Emily hadn't had a few guilt inducing dreams about the man herself…

                "If you say so."  Lacy was clearly unconvinced but got up to take the order of the man who'd just walked into the dinner. 

                The problem was now Emily could not get the idea out of her head.

 

* * *

 

 

                Cassidy stared obstinately out one of the church's front windows to where Jesse stood in the brilliant sunshine talking to a pair of post menopausal biddies.   Apparently they made it their weekly duty to bring the Preacher some kind of home baked goody.  From what Cass could make out from here, today was blueberry scones.

                Part of him wondered what it would be like to stand out there in the heat with Jesse, listening them wax on about their knitting or what have you.  It was an odd notion.  After nearly a century consigned to the shadows Cassidy didn't give the day to much thought anymore - beyond when arseholes were forcing him to jump out of planes at 30,000 feet.  But right now, fuck if he simply wanted to step out onto the porch.

                Reverend Jesse Custer was quickly making a fool out of him.

                One of the ladies glanced up and caught sight of him standing at the window.  Perhaps he should have worn a shirt, but the bloodstains probably wouldn't have looked any better.   The old woman turned red, eyes darting from him to Jesse and then down to the tray in her hands.  She seemed unable to meet Jesse's gaze now.

                Now if that wasn't an odd moment Cassidy didn't know what was.  Besides who would waste time _not_ looking at the Preacher when they had the chance.  Jesse was a bleeding sight worth seeing! 

                Frowning, Cassidy went to see if there was an un-bloody shirt in the donation box.

 

* * *

 

 

                By now Emily had been asked no less than five times about Cassidy staying at the church.  Between this and that damned idiot (pardon her French) getting in a bar fight, Jesse had never been such a popular subject for gossip.  And in a town this dried up gossip was about the only real source of entertainment - meaning it spread faster than a wild fire in July. 

                The rumor's themselves didn't exactly bother her, people were going to talk no matter what she said, it was the reaction they might cause which had her worried.  Bigotry and violence weren't rare in places like Annville, heck even the sheriff fell into that category.   And it only took one man to do something terrible. 

                Maybe she should warn Jesse just in case. 

 

* * *

 

 

                Jesse was slumped into the worn out sofa going over notes for his next sermon when Cassidy sauntered into the room.  The sight of the Preacher's hair all fucked up caused his throat to run dry.  Oh Cass could imagine a whole litany of wicked ways to muss up Jesse's hair like that, several involving the sofa.

                He was far too old for this shite.  But the cracked fan by the window blew a gust of warm air his way along with the scent from the small paper cut on Jesse's left index finger.  Cassidy bit down a groan.  It was like honey, crack cocaine, whiskey, and orgasms all rolled into one overwhelming scent.  Jesse's blood was unlike anything he'd ever encountered before. 

                For the first time Cassidy wished he was like the vampire's in today's Anne Rice influenced bullshite.  1) He'd have been magically graced with a six pack and eternally perfect hair.  And more importantly 2) He'd have fangs.  He could bite down on the thin skin of Jesse's neck without the need to kill.  Cass could drink in that enthralling blood while feeling Jesse writhing in ecstasy beneath him.  God if that wasn't a bloody wonderful mental image.

                "Hey Cass." The Preacher looked up from his papers with a slight smile.

                Cassidy swiftly forced his thoughts in more holy directions.  "Evening Padre.  You planning on blowing that wee flock our yours away with words of awe and inspiration?"

                Jesse let out a tired, self deprecating huff.  "Well no,  since I'm mostly shit at this."

                "Nonsense, Padre, you've got them eating out of the palm of your hands."

                There was a slight sound from the next room which caused them both to look over just as the Up Tight Woman appeared in the doorway.  Cass knew her name was Emily, but he preferred to think of her as the Up Tight Woman.  He'd know right off the bat that she wasn't a fan of his being there.  Negative influences and all that shite.   Her eyes darted between them, taking in his perpetually rumpled appearance and Jesse's hair, before landing more firmly on the Preacher.

                "Can I talk to you a minute?"

                "Sure." Jesse clambered up off the sofa and followed her out of the room.

                Curious fucker that he was, Cassidy decided to listen in on whatever Up Tight Woman wanted from Jesse.

 

           

* * *

 

 

                Emily sat down in one of the pews absently thinking she needed to dust them, or find some way to convince Jesse to do it.  But the general crumbling of the building wasn't the issue right now, and, Lord help her, she really did not want to get into the issue.  Sure to be awkward conversations were not her forte.

                Jesse waited a moment for her to speak before prompting.  "What did you want to talk about?"

                She sighed, feeling a bit foolish.  "There's been some _talk_ around town lately.  I'm afraid it might stir up some trouble for you."

                The Preacher huffed.  "More trouble than usual?"

                Emily had the sinful urge to smack him on the head with a hymnal.   "Yes.  Half the town seems to think you're having a wild, illicit affair was Cassidy!"

                Jesse sputtered then burst out laughing.  Emily wasn't sure she'd ever seen him really laugh before.  It made him appear so much younger. 

                "Eh?  What's so funny about that, Padre?"  Cassidy materialized in the doorway grinning, somehow having overheard them.   "Everybody wants some of this."  He gestured to his lanky form and ratty clothes. 

                Rolling her eyes, Emily couldn't suppress a smile as both men set off in another round of laughter.  Idiots.

                "It won't be so humorous if some jerk throws a brick through the window."  She said sternly.  "It's not like we can afford to fix it."

                That sobered them both up quick.

                "I won't let that happen."  Cassidy said.  His expression was like nothing she'd ever seen on him: serious, almost dangerous, as if he'd throw himself in front of the brick first.

                It surprised her.

                Jesse held up his hands as if to placate them both.  "Nothing is going to happen.  Even in this town no one is stupid enough to attack the church."  He gave her that tired smile of his.  "Thanks for the warning though.  People will get bored and move on in a week or two."

 

             

* * *

 

 

                They watched Up Tight Woman drive away in her old minivan, the tires churning up dust in the road.  

                "So you regretting your visit to Annville yet?"  The Preacher murmured beside him.

                Cass turned to him, a slow grin spreading over his face.  "Hell no!  Everyone here thinks I've managed to seduce the most handsome fucker around."  

                Jesse smiled.  "You're not so bad yourself Cass."


End file.
